


Let It Snow

by goopeculiar



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Falling In Love, M/M, Obligatory Christmas Story, Snowed In, cute boys bonding over existential crises and creative major woes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21900610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goopeculiar/pseuds/goopeculiar
Summary: Chanyeol and Yixing end up getting snowed in together, but maybe it's not so bad.
Relationships: Park Chanyeol/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	Let It Snow

Chanyeol should really be at home by now. He should be at home, in his bed, sleeping, but he really wanted to finish the composition for this song he's been working on, and he just can't get the chorus to feel the way he wants it to. He glances at the clock above the door again, sighing. Maybe he should just go back to his dorm and then return in the morning with a clear mind and a fresh set of ears and eyes to put to this project.

When he stands up from his seat, he can immediately feel the signs of having sat here for hours upon hours. His legs are stiff from not moving for so long, and he has to tilt his head from side to side to work out the crick in his neck. He's tired, too. Now that he's no longer so intensely focused on perfecting his track, the exhaustion descends on him in overwhelming waves. The small hand on the clock is creeping steadily towards the number three as he packs away his guitar and gathers his notes to shove them into his messenger bag without much care.

It's only because Chanyeol has such a good relationship with his professors that he's even allowed to be in the studio this late. The Arts & Performance building is open to anyone, but the individual rooms are not. There's equipment here worth more than everything Chanyeol owns combined, so he makes absolutely sure to pull the door shut behind himself as he leaves the music studio, checking the handle several times to confirm that it's properly locked. His feet are heavy as he trudges through the hallways and down the stairs, headed towards the main exit. The trip back to his dorm is going to be a long one.

Chanyeol makes it all the way to the doors, hand on the handle, before he notices anything out of the ordinary. Then, he presses his face against the glass pane, staring at the landscape outside in awe. While he has been locked away in the studio, the building has apparently been bowled over by a pretty intense snowfall. The entire courtyard is covered in a blanket of white, so thick in some places that Chanyeol would estimate the piles to reach up past his knees if he was to walk outside. It's still snowing, too. Light from the streetlamps as well as the school's outdoor Christmas decorations reflects off the surface and creates an almost otherworldly glow.

Dejected, he steps away from the door. He had been looking forward to crawling into bed back at home, but it looks like it's going to be more difficult than expected. Glancing down at his combo of jeans and sneakers, he immediately comes to the conclusion that he's in no way equipped to handle the trek back to his room. He had dressed for the mild chill of winter this afternoon, not for several feet of snow. Maybe he should see if one of the other exits is less affected by the weather?

There's a sudden sound behind him, and he jolts in surprise. He turns his head and is just as startled to see a figure making their way down the stairs. Just another student, Chanyeol tells himself, bringing a hand up to press against his pounding heartbeat and taking a deep breath. He doesn't know why he's so jumpy. It's probably because there's something about nighttime that is inherently creepy, especially when you're in an abandoned school. Well, mostly abandoned, anyway. He's here, and so is the person walking towards him. 

As the person approaches, Chanyeol realizes that he recognizes him. It's Yixing, someone he knows through friends of friends, someone he has met multiple times at parties they were both attending. Chanyeol doesn't know much about him, because even though they have mutual friends (and, from what he's been told, similar interests that Chanyeol would be happy to bond over) they haven't ever really spoken much other than to exchange generic pleasantries.

Yixing seems to recognize him as well, judging by the way his face lights up with a friendly smile. Chanyeol has always been fascinated by the way his cheeks dimple, one deeper than the other. “Hey, man,” Yixing says. He's wearing a huge scarf and a purple backpack, and he drags his feet slightly as he walks. He looks about as sleepy as Chanyeol feels. “Uh, sorry, I'm really bad with names. What's your name again?”

“Chanyeol,” Chanyeol responds. He shouldn't be too disappointed that Yixing doesn't remember – they barely know each other, after all – but... he kind of is.

“Right, Jongin's boyfriend's roommate,” Yixing drawls in that soft, slow way he usually does. He's made it to Chanyeol's end of the hallway, now, and he halts abruptly when he gets a look at what's going on outside. “Oh, wow.” For a while, they stand there together in silence and stare at the flakes drizzling from the sky. It doesn't look like it's going to stop any time soon. “Well. That's going to make it hard to get home.”

“I was just about to go see if any of the other exits look better,” Chanyeol says. “You can stay here, if you want. I'll come back and tell you what I find.”

Yixing shakes his head. “Nah, I'll go with you. This place is kind of creepy at night.” He glances around the hallway like he's scared something is going to pop out from around the corner at any moment. For some reason Chanyeol is happy he's not the only one, who feels this way.

Their perusal of the school takes longer than it could have, which is mostly due to the fact that they keep stopping to look at all the Christmas decorations that adorn the hallways. There are garlands of colorful tinsel and plastic pine, baubles hung from ceiling lamps, and many strings of fairy lights that unfortunately aren't turned on because it's so late. They're still pretty nonetheless. Chanyeol loves Christmas lights.

They check all the ways out they can think of, even some that Chanyeol didn't know existed, like the one in the basement past the kilns. It makes sense that Yixing would know about that one, though, seeing as he's an art major (Chanyeol is bad with silence, so he'd asked). Everywhere they search seems to be either locked off or blocked off. Chanyeol had hoped against hope that at least one of the sides of the building had been safe from the flurries, but every inch of ground as far as the eye can see has been covered. They are officially snowed in.

“Well,” Chanyeol sighs once they've exhausted their options. “I guess we're stuck here, huh?” Yixing lets out a noise that could honestly mean just about anything. His lips are pursed, and he looks like he's moments away from falling asleep where he stands. Then again, he usually has that sleepy vibe about him. “We're probably going to have to spend the night here. I'm sure they won't be able to clear the streets until tomorrow.” Chanyeol bites his tongue as he thinks, one of the many bad habits he has. He reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. “I'm going to text Baekhyun to let him know.”

“Good idea.” Yixing doesn't grab his phone to do the same. Does he live by himself? Is that a weird thing to ask? Probably. Chanyeol opts to stay silent as he taps away at the screen to write out a message, even though he's pretty sure Baekhyun wouldn't even notice him missing for a good seventy-two hours. “Hey, do you have any money?” Yixing suddenly asks. Surprised by the question, Chanyeol furrows his brow. Yixing jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I remember there being a vending machine on the third floor, and I could really go for some hot chocolate right now.”

Between them, they manage to scrounge up enough coins for a single cup. “I don't mind sharing if you don't,” Chanyeol says, and Yixing just shrugs in response.

The hot chocolate is very watered down, and there are no marshmallows or whipped cream or anything on top, but it's sweet and it's warm. They find a place to sit in the large entrance hall where a floor to ceiling window grants them a full view of the courtyard buried in snow. Yixing toes off his shoes so he can pull his feet up on the bench they're sitting on, and Chanyeol notices that he's wearing two different colored socks – one dark purple with lavender dots, one with a cartoon image of a unicorn at the toes. Yixing holds the cup of hot chocolate between both of his palms as he takes a sip from it. “You know, it's not so bad when you're in here looking out,” he comments. “It's actually kind of beautiful. At least right now.”

Chanyeol can see what he means. The snow is still completely untouched, sparkly under the streetlamps. A pure white blanket tucked tightly around the sleeping world. “I'm just happy I'm not traveling home for Christmas break tomorrow like everyone else. Public transportation is going to be hellish with this weather.” Chanyeol looks at Yixing, whose sleeves cover his hands halfway, making him look small and soft. The tips of his fingers brush Chanyeol's when he hands the cup over. “Are you going home?”

There's sadness in the twist of Yixing's expression. It makes Chanyeol wonder if he said something wrong. “No, I...” Yixing smiles wryly. “I couldn't. Plane tickets are too expensive, and my parents are already paying for my school, so I don't want them to waste even more money on me.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.” Chanyeol's heart has dropped. Him not going home had been a conscious choice, and it hadn't really occurred to him that someone else could have other reasons. God, he's so stupid for bringing it up. It's not like it's any of his business. Chanyeol takes a gulp of hot chocolate to occupy himself, but it's futile. He's bad with silences, even worse with awkward ones, and he has an awful habit of running his mouth to combat them. Which is why he blabbers on: “What are your plans for Christmas, then?”

Yixing shrugs his shoulders. “No plans, really. I'm probably just going to be by myself. Most of my friends are going home to see their families over break.” Chanyeol just keeps digging himself deeper and deeper into this hole, doesn't he?

“You should come spend it with me and Baekhyun,” he offers, hoping the enthusiasm reads in his voice. “We're going to try our best at cooking a proper Christmas dinner, but neither of us actually know what we're doing, so we're probably just going to end up making a giant mess and burning our dorm down.”

That pulls a chuckle out of Yixing, at least. “I'm pretty decent in a kitchen, I could come be your adult supervision.” His smile fades into worry. “I don't want to impose, though.”

“You wouldn't be imposing, it's gonna be a bunch of our friends there. Everyone, who didn't go home for break, are invited.” Chanyeol rubs the back of his neck. Has his hair been sticking out like this the whole time? He pats it down as surreptitiously as possible while he's at it. “It'll mostly be music and performance majors, but they're all nice, I swear.” It's a lie. Most of Chanyeol's friends are direct descendants of Satan. He doesn't want to scare Yixing away, though.

“Oh,” Yixing drawls. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times as he considers his response. He does that a lot, Chanyeol has noticed. “Well. Thank you, then.”

Chanyeol beams. “No problem. I just don't think anyone should have to spend Christmas alone if they don't want to. My heart can't take it.”

“A bleeding heart for the lost and hopeless, huh?” Casual, like it's no big deal at all, Yixing reaches out to pat Chanyeol's chest, and Chanyeol immediately feels heat rising to his cheeks like he's a blushing schoolgirl. God. How embarrassing. “I'll come. If we ever get out of here, that is.” 

“Yeah.” Yixing has a point. Chanyeol hands over the cup of not-so-hot chocolate back to Yixing one last time, and he looks out at the winter wonderland before them. He has kind of lost track of time by now, he just knows it's late, and that he's really tired, and that he would really like to get some sleep soon. He can feel that odd tightness in his eyes, the blurriness crawling in at the edges of his field of sight, the way his head is spinning. He really needs to sleep.

“Is that a guitar, by the way?” Yixing suddenly asks as he gestures to the case by Chanyeol's side. “Or are you an old time-y gangster hiding a machine gun?” The twinkle in his eyes is very cute.

Chanyeol chuckles. “It's a guitar,” he replies. The hard case is a plain black with silver accents. If it was up to him, he would have decorated it with stickers and possibly glitter, but he's supposed to be a classical guitarist, and his parents wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he was to show up to a concert with cute cartoon animals and glitter pen all over his immaculate guitar case. “It's why I'm here this late. I was working on my composition, but I got stuck.”

“I know that feeling.” Yixing sounds solemn. “I'm here for the same reason. I have a piece I was supposed to turn in before the break. I haven't even started yet because I don't know what to do with it.” He sighs. “I'm lucky my professor loves me and agreed to push my deadline back.” Chanyeol gets that. He truly, truly gets that. Yixing tips his head back and drains the rest of the hot chocolate like a shot, and then he looks at Chanyeol again. “Play me something?”

Chanyeol pulls out his acoustic guitar and situates it in his lap. He rarely ever feels bashful, but he kind of does right now with how unwavering Yixing's gaze on him is, attention undivided, so he busies himself with fiddling with the tuning pegs. “What do you want me to play?” Yixing just shrugs, the way he tends to do so often. Chanyeol plucks idly at the strings, letting the notes vibrate out into the big, empty hall. Then he decides to play his unfinished composition. “It's not done,” Chanyeol warns as he works his way through the intro chords and towards the first verse.

“That's fine,” Yixing says. His eyes, intense even in their droopiness, are fastened on Chanyeol's hands, and Chanyeol has to really concentrate so his fingers don't fumble on the fretboard. He pulls a face when he gets to the chorus that he still hates. Yixing seems to notice. “This is the part you got stuck on.” It's not a question, more of an observation. Chanyeol nods, stops playing at the part he has yet to complete, and picks the song back up with the second verse. He's collaborating with Kyungsoo, a vocalist from his class, for this, and he feels bad about being the one to stall their whole work progress. He's the one holding them back. “Try playing it again?”

His request makes Chanyeol pause. “What?”

“Play the chorus part again,” Yixing asks. Chanyeol only hesitates for a moment before complying. He still hates it just as much the second time around, just as much as he had hated it for the hours he spent slaving over it in the studio, but Yixing is listening closely, tapping his fingers against his own knee and nodding his head to follow the rhythm. “What is it that you don't like about this?”

“I'm not sure,” Chanyeol says. “It's just... I just feel like it's not right. It doesn't sound good with the rest of the song. I'm pretty pleased with everything else, but the hook is giving me a lot of trouble.”

When Yixing reaches out wordlessly, Chanyeol hands over his guitar without a second thought. That second thought only comes after the exchange has already happened, when Yixing already has the instrument in his lap. Chanyeol has never trusted anyone other than himself with his baby, but he finds that he's not actually nervous. He trusts Yixing. “What if you play it more like this?” Yixing suggests. His fingers are lithe and slender as he moves them along the neck of the guitar. 

The melody is basically the same as what Chanyeol had done, played a little slower and with a few interchanged notes, and... “That's minor scale,” Chanyeol says. His own version had been in major.

Another shrug. “I don't really know what that means. I am but a lowly art student, mister.”

“Could've fooled me.” Yixing had listened to this part exactly twice and been able to copy the notes to near perfection.

Yixing's dimple pops out. “Just because I taught myself how to play to pick up cute people, it doesn't mean I know all the musical terms.” He runs through the chorus one more time, the way he had reinvented it. Chanyeol watches his hands as intently as Yixing had watched his, committing the new chords to memory. “I feel like it fits better with the overall vibe of the song this way.” He's not wrong. Whether Chanyeol wants to or not, he always gets affected by the change of seasons, and his winter works are generally more somber and grey-sounding as a result. Minor scale is perfect for this. Why had he not considered that before?

“You're amazing,” Chanyeol whispers reverently. “You've literally saved my life. I could kiss you.”

“Don't be so dramatic,” Yixing chuckles. When he stops playing and hands back the guitar, Chanyeol almost feels disappointed. “But you're welcome, I guess.” Yixing is smiling as Chanyeol plays the song himself. “Yeah. That sounds good, if you ask me. I mean, not that your song was bad before or anything, but...” He scratches the back of his neck as if he's bashful. “Yeah.” Has he always been this cute? The times Chanyeol has met him in passing, Yixing has seemed aloof and kind of coldly distant, but Chanyeol is starting to realize that maybe that is just because Yixing has a habit of zoning out.

“You're right,” Chanyeol says, smiling to let Yixing know he isn't offended. “This sounds good.” He plays the song from the top and adds in the new and improved chorus, and it just... works. After, he switches over to playing a Christmas song, and Yixing hums along to the tune as they watch the snow that's still falling right outside the window.

Like that, Chanyeol loses himself. He loses track of the passing of time. Maybe it's because he's so sleep-deprived, or maybe it's because this moment, right here, right now, stuck in this deserted school building with Yixing by his side, is something he wants to last. “I want to show you something,” Yixing eventually says.

Chanyeol stops playing. “What is it?” he asks. He's not suspicious, just curious. Even more so when all Yixing does in response is smile.

Yixing takes Chanyeol to the fifth floor where Chanyeol knows most of the school's art ateliers are. It's also the top floor of the building, and even though Chanyeol hasn't spent a lot of time here, he's starting to realize why his art student friends always complain about the stairs. Yixing still hasn't spoken a word about where they're going, but he walks with a clear destination in mind. Chanyeol can do nothing but follow.

Finally, Yixing stops in front of a door, nondescript, like any other door in this darkened hallway. There's something about the sparkle in Yixing's eyes, however, that makes Chanyeol believe without a doubt in his mind that behind this door lay something very significant. “Do you trust me?” Yixing asks. To be honest, Chanyeol barely knows him. Tonight is the most they've ever spoken to each other, and apart from that, all Chanyeol knows about Yixing is what he has heard in passing from friends and friends of friends. And yet Chanyeol would trust Yixing in a heartbeat. He's always been a good judge of character, he reasons, so he nods. A flash of Yixing's dimples makes it all worth it. “Then close your eyes.”

Chanyeol chuckles, a little incredulous, now, a little nervous. “What?”

“Close your eyes,” Yixing repeats. Heaving a sigh, Chanyeol lets his lids slide shut. It's weird, standing here in the hallway with a peripheral acquaintance, even more so when he's robbed of his vision. He jolts slightly at the touch of Yixing's skin against his own as he slides their hands together and holds on tight. “Keep them closed, no peeking!” There's the sound of the door opening, and when Yixing starts walking, Chanyeol follows.

On a good day, Chanyeol is clumsy. Awkward in his own body, forgetting about the sheer size of it, underestimating the length of his limbs. With his eyes closed, he's even worse off, so he hangs on to Yixing's hand with both of his own and trusts him to lead. “I really hope you're not secretly a serial killer or something,” Chanyeol jokes.

“Only on the weekend,” Yixing replies. He comes to a stop without warning, and Chanyeol bumps into him. “Oops, sorry.” He gives Chanyeol's hand an apologetic squeeze. Chanyeol squeezes back. “Alright. I'm going to need you to lie down.”

Chanyeol raises his eyebrows. “Here? On the floor?” This is all very strange. Maybe he isn't as good of a judge of character as he believes he is. Maybe Yixing is luring him into becoming a human sacrifice.

“Trust me,” Yixing insists, and what can Chanyeol do other than obey? Still keeping his eyes shut, Chanyeol kneels down, then fumbles his hands against the wooden boards to orientate himself lest he fall face first onto the floor. He lies down, flat on his back. He swears he can feel Yixing watching him, and it makes him feel exposed for reasons he doesn't even understand. He resists the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. “Alright. Now look.”

Chanyeol opens his eyes, and his jaw drops. “Holy shit,” he whispers breathlessly.

“I know, right?” Yixing says. Chanyeol can hear the sound of him sprawling out on the floor as well, but even though Chanyeol has had a hard time keeping his eyes off Yixing for most of the night, he doesn't look at him now. In fact, he barely even blinks, afraid he might somehow miss something. Painted above them is an intricately detailed night sky, constellations and galaxies scattered across the giant dome that makes up the ceiling. There are spotlights placed along the bottom edges of the dome, leaving the room around them dark but the art piece lit up. “Rumor has it that a graduating student did this as a prank, and that the school was too cheap to cover it up. By now they'd probably receive too much protest if they tried to.”

“I hope they never do. This is amazing.”

Yixing lets out a small, pleased noise that implies he agrees. “I come here sometimes when I'm feeling lost. I lay here and look up at the stars and just listen to myself breathe.”

Chanyeol's eyes slide over the deep navy, the vivid purples and pinks, the tiny silver dots making up stars. He's not an expert on astrology, so he doesn't know how accurate the depiction is. It sure it beautiful, though. He's rarely speechless, but at the moment he's struggling to find the right words to say. Suddenly, something in his chest feels tight, his gut heavy. His breathing shudders with his next exhale. “Does it ever, like... make you feel really small?”

“Yeah.” Finally, Chanyeol manages to tear his gaze away from the ceiling to look at Yixing. There's a dreamy look on his face, and something about the way the light falls in through the large windows along the wall makes him look ethereal. Magical. Breathtaking. “Compared to the vast endlessness of the universe, I am insignificant. It's terrifying, but it's also, like, comforting, somehow. There are billions and billions of galaxies and even more stars than that, and I am just one human, a small speck of dust floating through time and space on a rock revolving a dying star. Anything that happens to me means nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

Chanyeol swallows something. “Fuck,” is all he can say.

Yixing turns his head to look at him, and a sheepish expression comes over his features. “Sorry to get all existential on you.” He breathes out harshly, eyes downcast. “This is what happens when I'm running on too little sleep and too much caffeine. I get... weird. Rambly.” He sounds almost ashamed of himself, as if he has expressed these thoughts in the past and had them brushed off, but Chanyeol understands. He understands exactly what Yixing means.

“No. No, I get it, it's...” Chanyeol turns so he's on his side, lifting himself up on his elbow so he can look at Yixing while he speaks to him, and he furrows his brow in thought. “It's like... when you look at Earth's entire timeline, we're barely a blip. We're miniscule. A life is the longest thing any person can do, but our lives are so comparably short, and we have so little time to accomplish something meaningful in the blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment of a human lifespan.”

“Which is why we should be able to do what makes us feel good,” Yixing says. “Life goes by too quickly to waste it on something or someone you're not passionate about. We're born and then we die, and we should be allowed to spend the brief time in between being some degree of happy. Whatever that entails.” Yixing looks at him, then, and Chanyeol looks back, and in the bout of silence that passes as they simply watch each other, Chanyeol swears he feels something swelling within his chest. Something big that feels too heavy for someone he practically just met.

So Chanyeol does what he's best at: deflects. “I have an idea,” he says.

It takes a while to find enough detachable couch cushions for what they need them for, and they have to make several trips back and forth to the fifth floor atelier to transport all of them back there, but in the end they've created a pretty decent makeshift mattress. It's better than lying directly on the floorboards, at least, and Yixing seems to agree, judging by the content sigh he exhales as he sprawls out on the layer of cushions. “This was a good idea,” he says, and Chanyeol beams.

But the soft surface beneath them is comfortable, and comfortable means Chanyeol is definitely going to knock out soon. “I could fall asleep like this,” Chanyeol mumbles. Yixing hums. He has his eyes closed already, and his mouth keeps falling open, then snapping shut, like he's losing consciousness and then becoming hyperaware of that fact. It's cute. Chanyeol gulps and looks up at the faux night sky above them. He counts constellations until he drifts off.

The thing about Chanyeol is that he's a notorious cuddler. He has a habit of needing to hold something in his sleep, which is why he has so many Rilakkuma plushies on his bed back at his dorm. With nothing else to wrap himself around, his body seems to have naturally gravitated towards Yixing's heat while they were sleeping, and so he wakes up with his head on Yixing's chest, his arm slung over Yixing's waist, one of Yixing's legs trapped between both of Chanyeol's. 

At first, Chanyeol is mortified. He has half a mind to fling himself away as soon as he can get his sleep-heavy body to cooperate. Then he feels the soft touch of fingers running through his hair. He cracks one eye open to see that Yixing is very much awake already, swiping idly at his phone with his free hand. Yixing is awake, and he hasn't immediately shoved Chanyeol off him. In fact, he seems pretty content like this. Yixing keeps stroking Chanyeol's hair, and Chanyeol can't help but sigh happily as he cuddles a little closer. “Good morning,” Yixing says. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah. Sorry for going koala on you.” Yixing doesn't say anything, and he doesn't move. He's so warm and so soft, and he smells so good, and Chanyeol really is starting to develop more feelings for Yixing than he had anticipated. The flutter in his belly is definitely a blooming crush, delicate like a baby bird, like a flower bud pushing through spring snow. “If you keep playing with my hair like that, I'm never gonna wanna move,” Chanyeol jokes. Always deflecting.

“Maybe that's the intention,” Yixing says with so much nonchalance that Chanyeol can't tell if he's being serious or not, but it makes his heart race all the same. He chooses to tell himself that Yixing really means it.

Their peace is disturbed by a faint roaring sound coming from somewhere outside, and as it grows louder, Chanyeol realizes what it is. “Is that a snow plow?” 

Yixing squirms out of his hold and goes to the window to confirm that it is indeed. “I guess it's time to leave, then.” And just like that, it feels like a spell has been broken. The bubble keeping them in and the rest of the world out has burst. They can leave. Chanyeol can go out and get something to eat, can go home and change into more weather-appropriate clothes, can go to sleep in a real bed. Why does he feel disappointed? “We should clean this up before we go,” Yixing says, gesturing to the mess of couch cushions scattered on the floor. So they do.

It's so bright outside, Chanyeol has to squint his eyes when they step through the doors. Most of the snow has been pushed off the streets to gather in piles along the sides of buildings, so there are cleared paths for them to walk on. Yixing is busy fixing his scarf and putting on his gloves. Chanyeol shoves his hands into his pockets and watches the way his own breath, visible in the frosty air, curls up towards the sky. Why does everything feel so awkward now, when just last night they had talked freely to each other without holding back? Why is Yixing suddenly not looking him in the eye? “Thank you, for, uh...” Chanyeol pauses. “For tonight, I guess. Thank you for helping me with my song, and... thank you for showing me that painting. I had a good time.”

Even though Yixing's scarf is so big and bulky, his dimples still pop out above it when he smiles. “It's no problem. Thank you for listening to me rambling. I had a good time as well.” Then, they stand there, in front of the building they just spent the night together in. Chanyeol doesn't know where Yixing lives, but he doesn't think it's close to his own dorm, seeing as he has never bumped into him anywhere, so they can't even walk home together. Is this really it? Yixing inhales sharply. “Well... I should...” He gestures vaguely. He makes it halfway down the stairs, walking slowly and carefully as to not slip, and then Chanyeol decides that he won't allow this to be it.

“Do you want to get some breakfast together?” he asks before Yixing can walk any further. Yixing looks surprised by Chanyeol's question. He stares at him like he expects him to say something else. “It's just... I'm kind of hungry, and it would be nice to have some company.” Chanyeol swallows around the lump in his throat. “And also, I would really like to talk with you some more. If you want that, too.”

That brings a smile out, at least. “Neither of us has any money,” Yixing says with a chuckle. Right. They spent what little change they had on them to get that hot chocolate.

“I'll go home and get my wallet first.” Chanyeol walks down the steps until he's standing next to Yixing. “Do you know the cafe that's right by the stadium? We can meet there in like half an hour or something.” He bites his tongue, looking at Yixing with a hopeful gaze. Chanyeol has been rejected before, sure, and he usually doesn't take it too poorly. Rejection is a part of life. Yixing turning him down wouldn't be the end of the world, either, but Chanyeol would definitely be disappointed. He likes Yixing. He really likes him a lot.

Thankfully, Yixing smiles, soft. “Make it an hour and we have a deal.” Chanyeol watches Yixing struggle to work his phone, until he realizes that the touchscreen won't work while he's wearing gloves so he takes them off. “Give me your number so I can text you in the inevitable case I get lost,” he says, handing over his phone with a new contact opened. Chanyeol is meticulous in typing in his number to make sure he doesn't get it wrong with how shaky his hands are. From the cold. Mostly.

Breakfast is just breakfast, Chanyeol knows that. There's nothing about two people sharing a meal that automatically means it has romantic undertones, but Chanyeol can't help but feel a little giddy with excitement as he makes his way back to his dorm room. It's quiet. Baekhyun is, not surprisingly, still asleep, and so he's not there to make fun of Chanyeol for putting extra effort into his clothes and hair before he leaves again.

Chanyeol arrives at the cafe first and goes inside to get them a table somewhere at the back of the store, furthest away from the cold creeping in whenever the door swings open. Yixing shows up a bit after. He, too, seems to have changed his clothes, swapping sweatpants for baggy jeans, sneakers for chunky boots. The scarf is the same, though. “It's snowing again?” Chanyeol asks as he gestures to the melting flakes in Yixing's hair.

“Just started,” Yixing replies. He's still fighting to unwind his giant scarf. Chanyeol wonders if he should offer to help him. “It's not so bad right now, but I heard it's going to pick up soon. Who knows, maybe we'll get snowed in together again.”

“I wouldn't necessarily mind that,” Chanyeol says before he can stop himself. His eyes widen at his own blatant attempt at flirting. Because that's definitely what that is. Flirting. Holding his breath, he searches Yixing's face to see his reaction. 

At first, Yixing looks taken aback. Like he's struggling to process the words or waiting for a punchline that's never going to come because Chanyeol isn't trying to be facetious Then, Yixing smiles, dimples on full display, and says: “Me neither.” And Chanyeol can breathe again.

So maybe they are insignificant. Maybe they are just two specks of dust in a universe too big for their human minds to comprehend. Nevertheless, Chanyeol sure is glad his short lifetime happened to align with Yixing's.

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas. :)))))
> 
> \- [Tip Jar](https://ko-fi.com/A562AF1)


End file.
